House number 8. After the lengthy admission processes in Chiromo, I had finally arrived and settled in the room that would be my home, at least, for the next two semesters. Like never before, the enthusiasm and passion for the dream was on. It was no longer a book of fiction. I was ready for the turbulence which would soon be declared by our seniors.
I hadn’t found anyone in the room but I couldn’t fail to notice the huge red boots on the floor evidently suggesting one of my roommates had already arrived. I would later meet him, Francis. Later on, Dennis joined us.
Francis was thirsty. Yes, to become a performer, a real winner. That is why he had woken us up at 5.00 am the following morning so that we could not miss a single word from the orientation sessions. Dennis was nonchalant, often frolicking. On the first day in Millennium Hall 1, I took a seat in the front row, which goes down into record as this was also the last time, I did that. I would soon join Wafula in the back seat. The classes were long, tedious and unpredictable. We never expected a paradise, anyway. CATs, assignments Laboratory reports followed each other in quick succession. They catalysed how days moved. Stellar to dismal perfomances. We each experienced a fair share of challenges.
High school lovers sank into oblivion as soon as Physiology CAT results were displayed on the notice board. In a jiffy, only a few were battling it out for glory and stardom. The majority were ready to sweep after the party. At such times, fear was good as it kept us watchful at the heart’s controls. James, in particular was conspicuously always on the run while Odos had been beguiled to purchase a Raymond Chang text to excel in Organic Chemistry.
I can’t overlook how we shifted lecture halls throughout the day to enjoy or abhor the many units. From Lecture Theatre 1 to the Chemistry Lab, etc. If you made one wrong turn you would end up in an Actuarial Science, or even worse, a Botany class.
Friends came in handy, Brian was one of such. (Our travels and travails will be narrated in part 2).
The year was summed up by the infamous End of Year examinations, in the treacherous Examinations Center in Chiromo.
The year was not yet done and dusted. No, not until the provisional list was released. We had to wait. An anxious wait of about two weeks to know the fate was the usual context.
I had received a call from Otis about the provisional pass list. Staggering, it was. Unbridled joy. Finally, Dr. Enoxaparin (in anticipation) heads to the second year of this journey, and he will wonder, and many others will also be left mouth agape, how he actually got there!
The Tale of Dr. Enoxaparin